


A Chance Meeting

by Diffindo



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-17 17:48:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15466758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diffindo/pseuds/Diffindo
Summary: Whatever did happen, whatever is happening right now, whatever might happen in the future, it all happens for a reason. This is the story of how a broken war hero met an optimistic child wonder and how that meeting changed their lives and inadvertently changed the whole universe. Harry Potter x Marvel Cinematic Universe crossover. Includes characters from both movies and TV Shows.





	1. The Unlikely Meeting

_This is the worst day of my year,_ thought the little eleven-year-old as she was going through her mother's book collection trying to find something that she hasn't already read.

_I must have gone through these things a hundred times already,_  she thought.

_I'm supposed to be in school right now. I would be there if it wasn't for this stupid sickness._

This was the first time she had missed school in the entire year. Most kids would be happy to miss a day of school and just play around the house, but she was not like most kids. She loved her school, loved the classes and her biggest worry was that she would miss out on something very important if she was not present at the class.

Why couldn't her mother just give her some medicine and she would be right as rain. She was a doctor after all. But no, her mother had told her in no uncertain terms that she was supposed to rest for the day. And even worse was the fact that she was all alone in the house now.

Still, it was nice for her to know that her parents trusted her enough to have the house on her own. No babysitters or annoying neighbors needed here.

It was already past noon and she had her lunch already. Her mother had prepared everything in order for her just before she left. Even if her mother hadn't done that, she was no slouch in the kitchen. She could have cooked up something for herself. That wasn't her problem right now. The problem was the insane boredom she was feeling. It was one of the many times she had wished for a sibling. She just hoped that her parents would be home early.

Eventually, she picked up a book on Micro Biology from her mother's shelf. It was pretty advanced stuff for an eleven-year-old, but she wasn't a normal eleven years old. She was sure she could pick it up in time. With that thought in mind, she picked up the book and began combing through it.

It was an interesting read all right. Nothing too complex in the initial pages, but it would get only better from here. But just as she was about to turn to the tenth page she was interrupted by a very loud noise coming from inside the house.

She was startled and very frightened now. There was no one else in the house, she was sure of it. Unless it was, of course, one of her family playing a prank on her. Still, she got up from her chair and went to look around the house. It had sounded like something had crashed inside the house.

_Maybe it is a cat,_  she tried to reassure herself. Maybe it was trying to sneak in through the basement and knocked everything down on the way. So that's where she decided to check first. She had nothing against cats truly. But it's just that they were just so unruly.

But when she reached the basement all her thoughts came to an abrupt halt. It was not a cat at all. It was a man, a very young man with his clothes all tattered and singed at some points. He looked liked he hadn't even taken a proper shower in days. But the most important thing was that he was on the ground, probably unconscious.

The windows of the basement were shattered and there were little pieces of glass littered on the floor. Maybe that was the loud noise she had heard.

_He was trying to break into the house_ , she thought. She didn't waste any time after that, quickly running upstairs and dialing 112 to report a breaking and entering. She just hoped that the police would get there in time before the man woke up. Still, it wouldn't hurt for her to be prepared to defend herself if he did wake up. With that thought in mind, she went in search for something to arm herself when she remembered, her dad's shovel was right there in the backyard.

She sprinted out of the house and just as she thought, the big shovel was lying there innocently on the grass. A rather unkempt way to keep it, but she would deal with that later. Right now she had bigger problems. She tried to take the shovel with her right hand and that's when she truly felt the weight of it. She could barely lift it. So she used both her hands and started to drag it back to the house.

But she stopped herself before going back inside the house.

_Why in the world am I going back inside? That guy is just lying there inside the basement, if he hadn't already got up started plundering the house. Maybe I should just go to the neighbors until the police arrive._

But that's all she had time to think before the front door opened, and there stood the man in his ragged clothes looking directly at her. She felt a shiver run cold over her spine. There was no way she could get away from this man. She could run, but there was a very good chance that he would catch up with her.

Why couldn't she just run out of the house after calling the police?  _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_  she thought to herself. Standing out here in the open with a shovel in her hand that she could barely raise above her waist.

"Is this your house kid?" the man asked her in a kind voice that seemed out of place in the situation.

"What if it is?"

She was tempted to just drop the shovel and run, but she knew that she wouldn't get very far.

"What's the big idea with that thing on your hands?" the man asked her, a chuckle escaping from him.

She had no reply for him; she was just scared out of her mind.

The guy took this as a cue to approach her. She slowly started to back away from him, but it was not fast enough.

He knelt down in front of her and then asked, "So, are you like the guardian of the place or something?"

"To tell you the truth, this was not what I had imagined," the man said pointing to the house.

She was so petrified in fear that she couldn't muster enough energy to even speak. The man was so close to her that he could have strangled her without breaking a sweat.

_Where are the bloody police when you need them?_ She was swearing in her mind, something she would not have done out loud.

That's when the man started speaking again, "Still, it's a better sight than some of the other places I have seen." He turned around to get a better look at the house and seemed to be immersed in his own monologue.

_This is my chance,_ she thought as she lifted the shovel as high as she could. Before the kneeling man could turn around to face her again, she thwacked the shovel hard on the back of his head. That seemed to have done the trick as the man dropped to the ground like a puppet cut from its strings.

She was shocked for a moment before relief spread through her body. That was good timing on her part.

And speaking of timing she could hear loud sirens coming from down the road.  _Finally, the cavalry had arrived after all the action was done._

The policemen quickly spotted her, standing over the unconscious man with a shovel in her hand. One of them approached her and asked her if she was all right.

"I'm alright" she replied.

"That's good," the policeman said in a kind tone.

That's when one of the others asked, "You said that there was a man knocked out in your basement. Is he still there?"

"What?" she exclaimed to the policeman that asked the question. "This is that man," she said pointing to the unconscious guy next to her.

The policeman looked around in confusion and asked her, "What are you pointing at child?"

She was really confused now. Could they not see the man lying on the grass? He was a small man, but not that small that he could not be spotted by a person standing right on top of him.

"I'm pointing to the guy that broke into my house," she said with a hint of apprehension. "He is lying just at your feet after all" she continued.

The policeman turned to his colleagues who all had a look of confusion on their faces.

"Right you are," he said before pointing to two of his men.

"Collins and Bradley, you two stay with the kid and we will comb the house for the intruder. Call her parents too" he said pointing to her.

She was totally confused now. Why were they ignoring the intruder who was lying right in front of them and then go searching for the same guy up and down the house?

That's when she got the shock of her life. One of the policemen just stepped on the fallen man and his legs just went through the man's body as if there was nothing there.

_What the hell._


	2. Introductions

The eleven-year-old was completely flummoxed now.

_What in the hell just happened? The policeman just stepped through the body of that man._

Her thoughts were running wild for a possible explanation for the bizarre event she had just witnessed.

_Am I going mad? I can still see the tattered young man lying on the grass, someone no one seems to notice, not even the two policemen standing right next to me. Did I just imagine all these events? Is that man even real? I'm way past the age to make up stuff like this in my head._

The two policemen who were asked to watch her kept giving her weird looks. Of course, they have their doubts about the story.

_In their perspective, I had just pointed to an empty space and told them that their man was lying there. They must be thinking that I'm over the bend._

_Did the break-in really happen? I was lonely and bored and then suddenly my house gets broken in by some guy. But why would I imagine stuff up that makes me so scared and petrified that I would be afraid for my life? It doesn't make any sense to me._

The man was still lying on the floor apparently unconscious of her hit. She had been able to strike him on the head and render him unconscious, while the others were not even able to see or touch him. This gave more credence to her theory that this was all inside her head. But why on earth would she make up something like this was beyond her.

One of the policemen, Bradley was calling her parents and she had no idea what she would tell her parents about this.

Something about this entire thing still didn't feel right to her. She had heard the loud crash coming from the basement. She could have imagined it, but still, she had found the windows shattered and glass lying all over the floor. Something must have done that, most likely her imaginary intruder. She had seen him open the front door as well. He could touch things he wanted to if he could use the doorknob. And obviously, she could interact with him considering that she had knocked him out. The only real way to know the truth about the man was to find the evidence of breaking in and shattered windows in the basement. But then again, she could have done that herself if this was all supposed to be her imagination.

 _This is not real, this is not real._ She kept repeating this mantra over and over in her head, hoping that the man would disappear. But still, she could see him lying on the grass.

_Would he wake up and try to hurt her? None of these people could even see or touch him. They won't be able to protect me. They wouldn't even believe me if I told them. They would think that I'm just going nuts over fear._

She was rummaging her head, trying to think of a solution for this seemingly impossible situation when she noticed that some of the policemen that went in were coming back.

"Looks like he got away," the policeman said to her.

"The windows to the basement were broken in as you said, but there is no sign of him inside the house. He must have bolted out before we came here."

She didn't say anything back to him. The house was broken in. She hadn't imagined that part. That means that most likely, she hadn't imagined the man either. But that didn't make any sense to her as she was the only one able to interact with him. That also made her feel very scared now as to how to deal with the man when he eventually woke up. She could just thwack him in the head again. But she didn't tell the policemen about the invisible intruder again. It won't do any good for her right now.

"We will stay here with you till your parents get here," the policemen told her.

But she wasn't paying any attention to him now. Because at that moment the unconscious man had started stirring and no one else seemed to notice it. He slowly got up, nursing the back of his head where she had hit him. He looked around and noticed the police were there and then he spotted her.

She took a step back in fear of what was to come. But he wasn't looking at her anymore. He was addressing one of the policemen.

"Hey Officers, I think there has been a huge misunderstanding," he told the police.

Apparently, he didn't know that no one could see him. And it appeared as if no one could hear him either as no one except her paid any attention to him.

"Well, this is weird. Usually, people would be all over me, not outright ignoring me" he said as he tried to tap the shoulder of a policeman. But to his surprise, the hand just went through his body.

"Well this is unexpected"he continued. "I'm a ghost then."

She was rooted to her feet watching all this happen, while the policemen were talking about filing a report. They were starting to guide her back to the house when the man's gaze fell on her again.

"You can still see me, right," he asked her.

She couldn't answer him back. She just gave him a small nod before letting the policemen guide her back to the house.

"OK," he said before following them into the house.

She didn't really know where this was going.

_He is following us back to the house. What does he plan to do? And he thinks he is a ghost?_

They waited inside the living room until her parents arrived ten minutes later. Her parents were hysterical that their only daughter could have been attacked in her own home. Her mother was all over her in a second, crying and hugging her and placing kisses all over her face. Her dad was worried as well, looking over her every now and then while talking to the policemen.

When all of this was taking place, the invisible man was sitting in a corner of the room, watching the proceedings with a hint of curiosity and amusement.

Eventually, all the policemen left the house and her mom and dad were sitting down with her asking the details and comforting her. The man still looked on at the scene not making a move.

It had been two hours since the incident, and the man had still not disappeared on her. He was still sitting there in the corner, with an expectant look over his face.

Her mom and dad had gone to the basement to check out the damage a while back. Her mom had insisted on staying with her, but she had assured she was fine over and over until she relented. After all her mom wouldn't be able to do anything if the man acted and it was better for her that her mom and dad would out of harm's way.

She summoned up all the courage in her body and walked up to the man, trying to hide the fact that she was nervous and a little afraid. As soon as she got to him she did something really, really stupid. She slapped him right across his face and found to her astonishment that she could actually touch him.

The man who was looking all amused right up till that point had a shocked look on his face.

"What did you do that for?" he asked her bewildered.

"That was for all the mess you've caused and then scaring the life out of me" she exclaimed, pointing a finger at him.

"Fair enough," he said in a calm voice.

"Also I wanted to make sure that I could hit you" she blurted out without thinking.

He gave her another look tinged with curiosity.

"How were you able to hit me, or even touch me? My hand just went through that Officer's body when I tried to call him."

"I don't know" she answered him. "Maybe it's because you are part of my imagination, and I make the rules over there," she said with a bit of daring in her voice.

She was still not sure if the man in front of her was just her head playing games, or a real person out of phase with the reality. She was never going to admit the ghost theory.

"Let me stop you right there kid," he told her.

"I'm pretty sure that I am not some random guy you created in your head. I had a life, I had friends and family, and I'm certain that I am dead and standing in front of you as a ghost."

"Of course you are not a ghost" she replied in a rather heated and loud voice. For a moment she was concerned that her parents had heard her. Both of them kept looking at the basement for a moment before turning to each other.

"You are not a ghost" she lowered her voice to a whisper.

"Ghosts do not exist. If you were one, why am I able to see, hear and touch you? I did knock you out, didn't I? I wouldn't be able to do that if you were a ghost" she added in a tone that suggested finality.

"Um, interesting theory" he started.

"But considering the fact that the last memory I have is of killing myself and then considering the current circumstances, I would think that I am pretty much dead."

He continued, "And for your information ghosts do exist. I have seen plenty of ghosts, I even got ghost friends."

She was even more puzzled and horrified by what he had said. Had this man tried to kill himself?

But she didn't have long to ponder and ask the man any more questions, because at that moment she could hear her mom and dad coming up from the basement. She quickly made up her mind on what to do with the stranger.

"OK, I am only going to tell you this once," she said. "Do not ever hurt my mom or dad. Don't even try that, get it."

The man just looked at her smiled. It really was silly of her to threaten a man who could phase through people, but she had to do it.

"I will never hurt your mom or dad" he promised.

"Or you for that matter. Scout's honour" he finished with a salute to her.

It looked rather comical when he did that but she didn't tell him that. There was no way she could ensure that he would keep the promise, but at least he had promised. For now, that will do.

"Thanks for your promise. Let me introduce myself" she told him while extending her right hand.

"I am Jemma Simmons."

"I am Harry," he told her as he shook her tiny outstretched hand.

Neither of them knew that this meeting would change their lives for many years to come.


	3. Ghost Friend

It's been three days since eleven-year-old Jemma Simmons had met Harry Potter, but since then she had seen neither tail nor hide of him anywhere. Maybe it was better this way. She didn't have to be on constant lookout for a person only she could see or hear, even if that person was actually quite nice.

Still, his absence begged the question in her mind whether what she witnessed and experienced was real or not. Even now she wasn't sure if that man actually existed seemingly out of phase with the reality, except for her of course. Or he could be a ghost, as he had suggested.

 _He could be, but very unlikely,_ Jemma thought. She was adamant about the fact that ghosts weren't real, and even if it were they wouldn't be able to interact with the physical world.

 _This is not some children's fairy tale where the ghost becomes friends with the child and goes on adventures,_ Jemma thought. One would think that an eleven-year-old would be more susceptible to a story like that, but Jemma wasn't like those children.

After all, she was all set to graduate from high school early and then pursue her Ph.D. Her reality was grounded on rational thoughts and scientific facts. That was one of the reasons she had for questioning her own state of mind, cooking up a story in her head and actually believing it was real. The longer Harry stayed out of sight, the stronger Jemma's suspicions became.

 _Thinking too hard on this would only muck up my head more,_ she thought.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and both her parents were home. This could well be the last few months she could spend with them on a regular basis. But instead of enjoying the time with her family, here she was cooped up in the study, contemplating her state of mind.

Her thoughts were so distracting that she didn't realize that the subject of her thoughts was standing right next to her. It took her a moment before she realized that she was not alone. She turned back around and the sight that welcomed her made her scream out of her lungs as she tried to jump out of her seat and fell to the floor.

There was Harry, standing on one of the tables. Well standing in would be a more appropriate expression as that's exactly what she was seeing. The top half of his body was floating over the table while the rest remained hidden underneath.

Hearing the commotion, her dad came rushing into the study and took the sight of Jemma sprawled on the floor. He helped her up to her feet and then asked, "What happened? I heard you scream."

Jemma quickly gained her composure back and replied, "It was nothing. A bee just flew in here and I got scared."

She was never a very good liar and the expression on her dad's face confirmed that he didn't believe her.

"A bee Jem, in here. Really?" her dad asked.

"Well, would you believe me if I said that I got startled by a ghost?" Jemma asked her dad.

Her dad just kept staring at her, the worry lines clear on his face as he tried to contemplate what was happening with his daughter.

"Jemma, you could talk to us. You know that, right," he said.

"I know dad, but nothing is happening to me. It's just that what happened really freaked me out, and I guess it made me a little jumpier" she said trying to placate her dad's worries.

"We love you little pumpkin," her dad told her as he held her in a loving embrace.

"I know you are really smart for your age, and growing up too fast for my liking. But you are still our little girl" her dad continued.

"If you got any problems, anything at all, you come to us."

"I know dad," Jemma said as she tried not to lose her composure.

"I love you too."

As all this was going on, Harry was watching the interaction between the father and daughter with a strange longing in his eyes.

In his heart, Harry knew that he was dead, that there was no coming back. But he was still trapped. Trapped in this shell of his former self, unable to reunite with the ones he had lost.

Finally, Jemma's dad let go of her and then spoke, "Still got some messing around to do."

He gave her a watery smile and then went back to what he was doing before leaving Jemma alone in the study with Harry.

After ensuring that her dad was well out of earshot Jemma turned to Harry.

"What was that? I told you not to startle me before you left."

"Sorry" Harry replied.

"It's OK," Jemma said. "Just don't do that again," she told him.

Harry just gave a silent nod to her.

"Why are you looking so moody?" Jemma asked him with a bit of concern. For a moment she had forgotten her own theory that this might not be a real person.

Harry stared at her for a long time before answering.

"I never had that while growing up, you know. I never had a proper family."

Jemma could sense that her incorporeal friend was feeling very sad. But she didn't know what to do about it.

"I'm sorry," she said patting him on his arm.

"No it's fine" he assured her. "I thought I had got over it, but apparently being dead doesn't take those feelings away."

Jemma didn't say anything. They sat in silence for some time before she asked, "Where were you for the last three days?"

"Ah, the crux of the matter" suddenly Harry was looking all chirpy, a complete turnaround from what he was like a moment ago.

"I went out looking for the remnants of my past life," he said.

"Imagine my surprise, when I found out that none of the people or places I know and love apparently doesn't even exist."

"What are you saying?" Jemma asked him, thoroughly confused by his statement.

"I was not what you would call a normal person when I lived. I was a wizard. There is an entire society of the magical world hidden from the normal one. That's where I am from."

"You're joking," Jemma said with a bit of skepticism.

"No, I'm serious," he told her. "They are not that hard to find if you have magic. And that's what is confusing me. I didn't find it."

"But as a magical ghost, I should have been able to find it."

Jemma felt like her head was spinning with all these tales. Magic, Wizards, Ghosts, sounded pretty farfetched to her.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Harry asked her.

"Well, it all sounds, just out there you know. I don't know what to believe. I still don't even know if you are real or that I have gone mad" Jemma said in exasperation.

"There is nothing wrong with you little Jem," he told her in an assuring tone.

"I'm very real, and I'm standing in front of you, or at least my ghost is," he said.

"Again with the ghost thing. Why are you so sure that you are dead? You said you were a wizard. There must be some way to make you incorporeal without dying."

Harry just laughed at that statement from Jemma.

"You are speaking of astral projection," he asked her.

"Yes, exactly" Jemma replied.

"Wizards are not capable of that Jemma. The only way we can do that is if we die and become a ghost. There is no other way."

"Well then, what is your theory?" Jemma asked him.

"Why can't you find your home?"

"I do have a theory, and the manner in which I died gives some credence to it," Harry said.

"I believe that I am not in my home world" he continued.

"I strongly suspect that I am in an alternate universe where magic had never existed on earth."

"And why do you believe that?" Jemma asked him.

"I didn't just die" Harry answered her. "I jumped into the Veil of Death."

"What is that? And why did you jump into it?" she asked. Veil of Death sounded very ominous.

"I had a very bad life Jemma. There was a war in my world and I was in the center of it. In the end, many of my close friends died and I just sort of lost it."

"I craved vengeance for my friends more than anything" he continued as his tone got graver.

"And I got it. But after that I just felt empty, I just wanted it to end. So I tried to kill myself."

Jemma gasped at this.

"You said it before, but I thought you were making a joke," Jemma said, horrified.

"Nah, not a joke at all."

"I couldn't see an end, so I tried to end myself. I tried so many different ways too, but none of it worked on me for some reason. The Veil was my final option."

"And why is that?" Jemma asked him.

"Because the veil is absolute. There is no coming back from it. I should know, my godfather died falling through it. So I tried the same thing hoping to end my life."

"So, you are saying that this veil not only killed you but also transported you to an alternate universe. That doesn't make any sense at all" she said.

"That's the only thing that makes sense to me" Harry replied.

"No, you don't understand. What is the point of sending you to another world, if you are already dead? Both can't happen at the same time. Either you are dead, and your community ceased to exist or you are not dead and you are in a different universe. I think it's the latter" Jemma said trying to make sense of it all.

"You sure you are eleven?" Harry asked her with a bit of amusement.

"I'm told I am a bit advanced for my age" she replied.

"A bit, really?"

"That's not the point here. The point I am trying to make here is that you are not dead at all. That veil you mentioned transported you to an alternate universe. That is why you feel like a ghost. You are out of phase with our reality. It's almost like you are in a different dimension, bleeding into ours."

"Slow down and catch your breath young lady," Harry said, a bit amused at Jemma's enthusiasm.

"You get my point right," she asked him.

"Yeah, I do get it," he said. "But there is a slight wrinkle in your theories."

"If I'm out of phase with your world, why are you the only person who is able to interact with me? What sets you apart?"

"I don't know the answer to that question," she said.

"All I can say is that it is a blessing that you at least got one person who knows you are here and would be able to help you."

"So, you are dropping the theory that I'm your imaginary friend," Harry asked her.

"I'm getting there," Jemma said with a smile.

"So, how should we proceed Doc," Harry asked her.

Jemma smiled at him.

_Did he seriously just call me Doc._

"Well my dear ghost friend, we will find a solution. Until then you can be my guardian angel" she said. She had always wanted a guardian angel.

"Aye, I can do that."


	4. Quarter Past

Someone important had once said, "Time flies like an arrow. Once it is taken out from the quiver and shot from the bow, nothing can stop it and the impact it leaves behind is forever etched in our life."

Well, it seemed an accurate depiction of her situation right now. It's been three months since the unlikely meeting of Jemma Simmons happened with Harry Potter and since then her life had been irrevocably changed. She was an eleven-year-old girl who had a friend that no one else could see. It sure sounds like the life of a little child to have an imaginary friend to keep herself entertained and escape from her loneliness.

But curiously, in this case, the imaginary friend of the little girl was very much real.

Since their bizarre meeting and the unconventional friendship they had made, Jemma had been scouring through volumes of books to explain why her friend cannot interact with the real world and how she could fix him. Because that's what she did best. She was good at fixing people.

But unfortunately for her none of her readings bore an answer. She may be a child genius but even she had difficulty while comprehending the intricate layers of quantum mechanics. No matter how much she delved into these subjects, she could never get a clear answer. Some of the books she had scoured had mentions of the metaphysical projection, but they were all still theoretical concepts whereas she needed an actual practical solution for her friend.

It was good that her parents were very accommodating of her various scientific urges. The incident three months prior had given them a major scare, but they were getting over it, bit by bit. At least they hadn't hired private security for her, which would have been useless anyway.

There were plenty of things she had to do to keep her busy at the moment. Most of it included her research on quantum physics. But above all, she missed her ghost friend.

While Jemma had been purging through mountains of library books, Harry had been traveling around the world to find any trace of the magical world that might be hidden.

Harry was still resistant to the idea that he could be fixed. He had accepted the fact that he was not dead, I mean how could he be? He could still interact with the real world if he concentrated hard enough. It was all about his will, just like he had fought for the control of his mind years ago. He could not be dead. But still, he did not think he would get his body back from any research that Jemma did. In fact, he didn't think that he deserved to have a body. But he was still searching for any clue of magic hidden somewhere in this alien yet so familiar world, looking for a way to keep himself sane.

He didn't share any of his worries with the little girl he had befriended. He didn't want to take away the spark from a young mind.

He would visit her from time to time during these trips, largely due to the schedule that she had planned out for him. Today was one of those days.

Jemma was having a break from her studies and the mountains of research she was doing when a very familiar voice called out to her.

"Aren't you supposed to be at school little minx?"

Harry was standing in front of her in a brand new set of clothes and a trimmed haircut. Jemma was startled for a moment.

"In case you didn't notice, it is Sunday."

She gave him a once over and said, "Where did you get that jacket and pants and how in the world were you able to put it on?"

It was a valid question on her part. In the three months, she had known her friend he has been able to interact with some small objects if he concentrated enough. He could pick up books and read, he could open doors if he wanted but the one thing that eluded them was a change of clothes. For three months Harry had been wearing the same clothes that he had been found in when they first met. Being an incorporeal being had its perks after all as he didn't even have a bad odor during this time. He was unbelievably clean for someone who had not had a change of clothes or haircut in the last three months. God knows how long ago he had one of those before he came here.

But apparently, that problem had been solved without her input at all. Harry had managed it in the end, for here he stood in a plain leather jacket and if you could believe it pants with blinking lights on them.

"This is nothing" he answered her.

"You should have seen some of the other things that they had on display there."

Jemma had a thousand questions running through her mind right now. How was he even able to put on these without people noticing it? Why do the people not notice him even now?

But none of these was the question that Jemma asked him.

"Did you steal these clothes?"

He just gave a chuckle at the question.

"Three months I have been stuck in my robes, and finally I have been rid of it and this is what you ask me."

"Of course it is stolen" he continued before noticing the glare Jemma was sending his way.

"Or borrowed if you prefer that" he corrected himself.

"Come on little minx, I have been hitching plane rides all over the world for the last three months. Isn't that stealing?"

"It's okay I guess," She told him, "and stop calling me little minx."

"I will keep that in mind," he told her with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Jemma was watching her friend very closely. This was a very pleasant change for him. He was brooding a lot when he was here the last time, but now he looked positively chirpy. What brought this on?

"Did people not notice you when you put these on?"

Jemma genuinely wanted to know.

"Not really" he answered.

"I am not stupid enough to take these when people are around, you know."

"That's not what I meant and you know that," Jemma said.

"I just want to understand why the clothes become part of you."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"I mean, how your clothes became out of phase with our reality just like you? How did that happen? If we can understand that then maybe we can work on getting you in phase."

Jemma's question brought Harry to a halt. He hadn't really thought about it, the way his personal belongings have become invisible and out of phase with the outside world. It seemed that the years spent in the magical community and then the war that followed was addling his logical ability. He had been so engrossed with his life in magic that every weird occurrence that he comes across seemed like a part of the natural life.

"I don't really know" Harry replied.

"I haven't really thought about it. I was a wizard after all. Maybe it had something to do with that, maybe I am doing it subconsciously."

Jemma was in deep thought considering various theories she had in mind to explain this particular phenomenon. But none of them made sense to her at the moment. The only one she kept coming back to was the Veil or as Harry liked to call it 'The Curtain of Death'.

Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable must be the truth.

"I think this has more to do with the Veil you jumped through rather than you being a wizard."

Jemma was trying logically piece the puzzle together with what she had been given.

Harry was in deep thoughts as well trying to recall anything he might have known about the Veil of Death. But everyone single one of his thoughts would end at one of his most painful memories.

The memory of watching his godfather fall through that same goddamn curtain. But that thought still had a silver lining.

"I have been thinking," Harry told Jemma, "If I fell through the Veil and ended up maybe Sirius is in this world too."

His face was earnest like a little kid.

"I don't know Harry, we don't know anything about this magical artifact other than the fact it can transport you to a different universe and apparently render you without a body. Your godfather might be here somewhere like you, cast out of his body. But it is still a very long shot."

Jemma didn't want to give her friend false hope on getting his family back, especially when she wasn't even sure whether he himself would have his life back.

"When did Sirius fall through the Veil?" she asked him.

"Three years before I did."

"If he did come through this world, he could be anywhere Harry. He could have been like you, we can't be sure of anything. It would be pointless to go looking for him."

Jemma didn't want to get her friend upset, but it needed to be said. They had bigger problems to take care of.

"I know. It was a long shot anyway" Harry said dejectedly.

"Tell me of the circumstances of your fall. You have never really told me about it or about anything in your past life. Maybe we could find some clues if I know more."

Harry was in a real somber mood now. His gleeful face had turned into harrowing with mention of Sirius and his past life.

"Do you really want to know? It is a long story and not really something one would tell children" Harry asked her.

"Yes, I want to know," Jemma said, "I already know that you tried to kill yourself. I don't know what could be worse than that. These are extraordinary circumstances and we need to put every card on the table to figure this out."

Harry looked old beyond his years then, even though he wasn't a physical presence in the world.

"If you really want to know I will tell you," Harry said.

"Are you sure you want to hear this?" he asked her.

Jemma just nodded her head prodding him to carry on.

"Okay, here it goes."


	5. A Light in the Dark

"Okay, here it goes" Harry told her as he prepared himself to tell his story.

He took a long breath as if to calm down and then looked at Jemma. Her face was lit up in anticipation to hear about the wonders of the magical world and the adventures of the Boy-Who-Lived as any little kid would be.

But she had no idea just how dark his story actually was. Maybe he could lighten it up in parts, make it more children friendly.

"So you want to hear the watered down version or the long drawn out version?" Harry asked her to prolong the inevitable.

Jemma just gave him a little smile and said, "You really do not want to tell me, do you?"

"It is just that for me, now, what happened in my life feels like a very painful story from a time long past gone. I can think of it as the life that someone else had lived. I do not want to revisit that life I had before coming here. Telling you about it would make that life very much a part of my reality."

Harry was trying to keep a smiling face but the hurt he felt must have been clearly shown on his face because Jemma got up from her chair, came up to him and gave him a hug.

"I am sorry," she told him after releasing from the hug.

Harry smiled at her and said, "That's the first time that you hugged me. I had forgotten what it felt like. It's nice."

Jemma smiled back at him and said, "It's okay if you do not want to tell me. But bottling it up won't do you any good. It would be good to talk about it to someone else."

For the first time, since she had met him, Jemma's eyes were completely open to a realization about her friend. She had always thought of him as a happy and easy go person, who had fallen into a very a bad set of circumstances that had led him here. Now she could see the truth.

Standing before her was a broken man. He just was very good at hiding it.

She didn't know exactly what had happened in his life, but she could hazard a guess from the little things that she knew about him. After all, he himself had told her that he had tried to kill himself, the very first time that she had met him.

She was brought out of her muse when Harry started to talk again.

"For the last three months, I have been living a very bizarre life. For the longest time, my deepest wish was to not get noticed by people, and now that wish had come true in the cruelest way."

Harry stopped himself to try and compose himself.

"What kind of life is this?"

The question wasn't directed at her, but Jemma still felt compelled to speak.

"It is not that bad is it?" Jemma asked him.

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say because Harry just started laughing. But he was not laughing in joy or amusement. This was the hollow laugh of a person who had been beaten down at every turn in his life. This was the laugh the of a person who had tried to escape the pain that was his life by ending it only to find out that he still lived like a cosmic joke. This was the laugh of a man who had reached the limit.

"Not that bad Jemma?" Harry asked her.

"Look at me Jemma. I do not even have a body and the only bloody person who can see me, are you."

That came out as an outburst rather than an explanation and Harry regretted it immediately. Jemma reeled back from him in shock at the outburst.

"I am sorry, that was uncalled for," Harry told her.

Harry sat down on the floor, his head hung low partly in regret and partly in pain.

"It is okay Harry. I'm your friend aren't I?" Jemma told him.

"I didn't ask you tell me about your life just to help you get a physical body." Jemma continued.

"I know that some terrible things have happened to you, and you have lost people. But keeping it all in like that is not good for you. It is going to blow you up from the inside and you are going to lash out like you did just now. And right now I'm the only person that you can talk to."

Jemma slowly approached him and sat down on the floor facing him.

She took his hand and told him, "You can talk to me."

Harry stayed there with his head hung low for a moment before he faced Jemma and said, "Thank you."

Jemma gave him a genuine smile at that.

"Although, I think I should be talking to a real therapist about my problems," Harry told her jokingly.

Her grin got wider as she said, "One must make do with what one has."

"And what makes you think that I cannot be a good therapist. I am good at listening, I can give good advice, and I good at solving problems. I could do this for a living."

Harry gave a light chuckle at that, "You might be missing a few points there."

"So will you talk?" Jemma asked him.

"You don't need to tell me about the bad stuff, we can just talk about the good things."

"Well, the good and bad in my life are so intertwined that you can't talk about one without talking about the other" Harry told her.

"Okay," Jemma said. "What are you willing to share with me then?" she asked.

"How about I answer your original question, about the how and why I fell through the veil," Harry said.

"Then tell me about it."

"The truth is I didn't just fall through the veil," Harry told her, "I jumped through it."

"You have already told me that Harry" Jemma told him.

"Then you remember what I told you about it. I jumped through it because I wanted to die. I felt like there was nothing left for me, so I took a way out. What I didn't tell you is that it wasn't the first time I had tried to end my life."

This was news to Jemma.

"What happened that was so dreadful that you felt like you had nothing left?"

"I lost everyone I cared about. That's what's happened" Harry replied her.

Jemma didn't say anything. She just patted his shoulder encouraging him to go on.

"You already know that I am a wizard and there are communities of wizards and witches from where I come from. But I left a little detail out when I told you about it."

"What is it?" Jemma asked him.

"I was kind of a celebrity over there."

"Are you serious?" she asked him.

Jemma hadn't expected that to be the tiny little detail that he left out.

"Yeah, and before you ask it wasn't for something that I actually did that I became famous."

Harry continued, "Before I was born, there was a really bad wizard who had risen up and gave himself the moniker of Dark Lord."

"Who was this dark wizard?" she asked him.

"His name was Tom Riddle, but he later changed it. He gave himself a new name that people were even afraid to speak of that they just called him You-Know-Who."

"What did he want?" Jemma asked.

"Well, he wanted what every super villain would want. World domination, but he portrayed himself as the one to purify the race to his followers."

"Purify the race?"

"You have heard of it before haven't you? This is a tagline that has been used by many leaders in the past, often to cover their own faults and to push their own agenda to the world."

"Well, Voldemort was one of those leaders."

"Voldemort? Who is Voldemort?" Jemma asked him.

"Voldemort was the name Tom Riddle gave himself when he became a Dark Lord. But he had been using that name since he was a teenager. He just disappeared from the world's eye once he graduated. When he resurfaced again, no one could recognize him as Tom Riddle."

"I have already told you that he wanted to purify the race as he called it, he wanted to purge those who were not worthy in his eyes."

"By purge, you mean?" Jemma trailed off.

"Genocide, that's what he wanted. He wanted to rid the world of everyone who was not of pure blood."

Jemma was horrified. But then a realization came upon her.

"Why are you telling me about this man Harry? How do you know so much about him?"

"I am getting to that" Harry told her.

"A few months before I was born, a prophecy was made."

Jemma really wanted to make a comment about prophecies, but she kept her tongue.

"This prophecy stated that Voldemort would be defeated by someone who was not yet born."

"It was you, wasn't it?" Jemma asked him.

"Yes, the prophecy talked about me. One of Voldemort's followers had overheard it when it was given and it eventually reached back to him."

"My parents went into hiding when they realized that I would be targeted. But we were found out eventually. When I was a year old, Voldemort came into my home and killed my parents."

Jemma gasped at that. It was horrible for anyone to live through something like that.

"How did you escape?" Jemma asked him.

"That's the funny thing Jemma. I didn't escape. Voldemort had used the killing curse on my parents. There is no way to block it. But he failed when he tried to do the same thing to me. All I got was a scar on my forehead, whereas he was destroyed."

"How did you survive?" she asked.

Harry's eyes were getting a little wet as he answered her.

"My mother sacrificed herself for me. That's how I survived."

"I am sorry," Jemma said.

"There were these creatures called Dementors back in my world. They make you relive the worst memory of your life. They would show me the night my parents got murdered. I would see my mother begging for my life with her killer, offering to die herself in exchange for my life."

"I didn't know what my mother looked like till I was 13, and I only got a glimpse of her because the Dementors made me relive my worst memory. For some time then I fancied paying a visit to the Dementors voluntarily just so I could hear her voice again. I have no other memory of either of them."

A single tear rolled down Harry's face. He traced his fingers on his face and took the drop of tear and looked at it.

"I can still produce tears," he said.

Jemma was crying a little too. Guessing about the things that have happened and actually hearing about it were two different things. Harry was right. She was not ready for this. But she had to support him through this if there was any hope for fixing him.

"That is terrible," Jemma said. "I am sorry you had to go through all that."

"It is painful to talk about it, but that is not the worst part of my story" Harry sighed.

"The worst was the war that broke out after Voldemort came back."

"What?" Jemma said, "I thought you said he died."

"We are talking about wizards here Jemma, and Voldemort was a very powerful and intelligent wizard. He knew of ways to cheat death and he didn't have the morals or the humanity to stray him away from that path."

"Anyway," Harry continued, "Voldemort had been nursing a grudge against me for thirteen years and when he came back, I became the target number one. Of course, I didn't know about the prophecy back then. I was always the number one enemy in his eyes."

Jemma was listening to his words with rapt attention now.

"It was a mess. The government didn't believe me when I said he was back. They orcatrized me, called me a liar and did everything possible to put me down. On top of that Voldemort lured me into a trap that got my godfather killed."

Harry took a moment before speaking again, "Maybe he isn't dead. Sirius might still be around somewhere."

Jemma knew where this conversation was going. They had already talked about this, but Harry had a hard time letting his godfather go. Considering all the things that she had heard now, she couldn't blame him.

"Maybe he is," she told Harry, "nothing is certain."

Harry had a small smile on his face as he said, "I know it is a false hope to think that Sirius might still be alive somewhere. But I wouldn't wish for him to be stuck like me."

"Anyway," Harry continued on with his story, "Eventually the government fell under Voldemort's attack. I got the tag of 'Undesirable Number One' and for a whole year I was hunted across the country along with my friends, fighting for our lives."

"You were on the run for a whole year?" Jemma asked.

"Yes," Harry replied.

"But eventually we stopped running and fought back."

"What happened?" she asked him.

"I killed Voldemort."

Jemma was astonished.

"You actually managed to kill him?" she asked.

"Sounds crazy, I know," Harry said.

"I was a seventeen-year-old average wizard, and he was the most powerful wizard of his time. And yet, I won."

Here Harry trailed off, trying to find the right words.

Jemma had noticed Harry's expression darken so she asked, "That's a good thing, right. You won against him."

"You would think so," Harry said.

"You bring down the leader of the terrorist group, and the order falls apart. For a little while there I had thought the war was over and I could finally rest. But his followers knew what awaited them now that their leader was dead. They were like rabid dogs. They didn't surrender. They just went on a rampage."

Jemma could sense the foreboding when Harry spoke of the war.

She almost regretted asking him the question, but ask him she did.

"What did they do?"

"They killed my friends, they killed my family, and they killed my godson."

It was like the floodgates to the dam had opened as Harry let out everything that he had been holding inside. He was openly crying now, for the loved ones he had lost.

Jemma went ahead and wrapped him up in a hug and let him cry on her shoulder. It looked like he had been holding that in for a long time, and talking about it just made it all the more real.

Finally, he composed himself and swiped the tear tracks from his face and said, "I am sorry I cried all over you. I don't usually do that."

He said it with a hint of a smile, trying to bring some cheer back into the conversation.

"It's okay," Jemma told him.

"You are surprisingly short for a seventeen-year-old."

"Blame that on genetics and malnutrition," Harry told her jokingly.

"You can guess what happened next. I was in despair and I wanted the pain to end. The veil sounded like a good solution at the time."

Harry said it with a sense of finality, but Jemma could see that he was still hiding parts of the story from her. But she didn't push him for the rest. He must have a good reason to keep it to himself. He had finally opened up to her and she didn't want to push him further than she had done now.

"Harry, you don't need to think of this life as a waste," Jemma told him.

"We can still figure out a way to give you a physical body. You can start a new life here. You do not need to forget about your past, but you can start to move on from it."

"You are not eleven years old," Harry told her.

"Either you are an alien in disguise or a time-traveling superhero to come with stuff like that. Considering where I come from, both of those theories look entirely feasible."

Jemma gave a slight chuckle at Harry's feeble attempt to lighten the mood by joking around.

"This is about you, Harry. I am not an alien specimen or a time- traveler so you can put those theories on hold."

Harry smiled back at her.

"Just remember this Harry" Jemma told him.

"The dark part of your life is over. This is a new chance. This is the part where the light comes to push back the darkness."

"That sounds really corny, but I will take that."

Harry wrapped the little kid in a hug and said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."


End file.
